Hat Hair

One of the aberrations of any athletic activity is if you think your coiffe will look good after a sweaty ride under a bike helmet or a perspiring day under a ski helmet or wool hat, you are mistaken. Hat hair, helmet head, or any other number of adjectives to describe the plastered, greasy, sweat infested hairdo at the end of the day is something that needs attention. Now there are those who refuse to wear a wool hat or a helmet during the most ferocious storms and cold weather in the winter only to hope that the windblown look will survive and look attractive in the bar at the end of the day. Some folks fall prey to this mistake by wearing a wool ski band in zero degree weather so that they can mimic the spring skiing models in Ski Magazine. Not something to do in mid winter conditions. But the rest of us who value our warmth and safety, wear the wool and the helmets and suffer the nerd like look of the plastered head at the end of the day.

Enter the trucker hat. Now with a noggin like mine, I need XL hats- period. Take the oversized, wide brimmed versions made by Big Truck Hats out of Squaw Valley, California. http://www.bigtruck.com I have several of these hats because they fit my melon real well and don’t look like most hats that fit like a yarmulke. These large trucker hats come down close to your ears and have a wide brim that not only covers the aforementioned head grease real well, but they are stylish. A great addition to one’s attire on the deck of a ski area after a great day on the slopes. Great for women and men alike and with a good pair of Ray Bans, you are ready for anything that is offered at the after ski party. Now if you didn’t cover up that goop, you would look rather disheveled and that could last into dinner which would further the disgust factor. The trucker hat is approved for after ski dinners and no one would think any less of you for wearing a hat at dinner especially if they saw the matted horror that lies beneath the stylish lid. Showers are not always timely and the covering is essential.

Summer is coming and like my matted sweaty head seen above with 3 time Tour de France champion Greg Lemond, it was immediately time for a shower or a quick visit to the duffel bag for a Big Truck hat. There are others that fit the bill in my collection which include the HKD Snowmaker hat, the various ski area hats that I wear, and the sweat stained favorite Tarpon hat from Patagonia. Hat hair has definitely taken a toll on that lid after rides but it is a badge of honor if I can get by the initial smell factor. A sweat stained trucker hat is high on the approval rating for any weekend warrior.

You may also be interested in knowing that hat hair is in our history as well. Take Thomas Jefferson here with a bad case of hat hair after apparently removing his tri- cornered hat to pose for this photo. Or perhaps the Marquis De Lafayette- our friend who helped wrap up the Revolution? His bouffant was altered by the tri cornered hat as well. Imagine if they had Big Truck hats back in their day? Quite stylish for apres activities at the Monticello or on the continent.

So when you are selecting hats for covering the helmet or hat hair, remember to be honest with yourself and take in consideration the size of your head. Most golf course hats, baseball team hats, and others with the adjustable cloth band are no where near large enough to proudly wear. They are just too small and come down only remotely close to the benchmark top of your ear. But the snap back trucker hats can typically be easily fitted to a large cranium and come down close to that benchmark. Nothing else is acceptable. Spend the money on a Big Truck hat or get one similar at your favorite ski area, bike shop, or resort and you will find that it will become part of your standard post ski/ride attire. Do your fellow skiers and riders a favor. We don’t want to look at hat hair. Thanks for reading.

Playing Hurt

This is a picture of my friend Eric Durfee and me back in the day at Tuckerman Ravine. We used to ski and camp there a lot and although there was enough adventure for the both of us up there with changing conditions and falling ice chunks the size of Volkswagens, we never had an injury while skiing there. Back home after one of those epic trips, I was walking by the tennis courts in our county park, stepped on a tennis ball and broke my foot. People asked me,” Pat – did you do that on your ski trip?” I responded in the negative and told the rather boring tale of the tennis ball. You see,most injuries I have ever had in my life have been mundane, boring circumstances which is how most people get hurt anyhow. Not paying attention, in a hurry and things happen.

Interestingly my friend Eric and I were talking the other day about my recent severed tendon in my hand which was done in a hurry shoving my bike in my Jeep. We recounted our past tales of injuries. Like when Eric rode the Tour of Cayuga Lake 90 mile road bicycle race with a cast on his hand fitted to the bike handlebars. I chimed in with my similar tale of skiing with a wrist cast molded to fit my ski pole. I finished a Utah trip skiing like that. I also told him about my time when I skied for 6 weeks in the winter on my left ski only. I broke a bone in my right foot and fitted the cast into a moon boot with a lot of padding. Skied most of that winter on my left ski which in the long run was good for my skiing. It made my right turns as strong as my left turns when I returned to skiing with both skis.

But my friend Eric takes the cake though when he reminded me of the time we skied Dodge’s Drop up at Tuckerman Ravine. We did not obey his old ski coaches edict(Joel Bostick from Cornell), which stated that you should never ski anything in Tuckerman without climbing up first to have a look. It was a foggy, dreary day and we found ourselves at the top of Dodge’s and decided to go for it even though we had not seen what it looked like from the bottom. We got about a third of the way down when we came upon a frozen waterfall. The dilemma was before us as to how to navigate this. I basically put my skis horizontal to the slope and slid down the waterfall sideways on my rear end- or right cheek basically, until I reached the snow again. A shaky move but I pulled it off. Eric had the more heroic move by placing his tips and tails between two rocks, balancing himself, and then jumping straight up into the air,turning downhill, and straight-lining until he reached a comfortable spot on the snow. The amazing thing is that he did all of this with a fiberglass wrist cast. Two skis, one pole.

As we sat at HOJOs having a beer later in the day, on the deck, we saw that our tracks were the only tracks in Dodge’s that day and the deck conversation with some guys was focused on ” those two guys” who skied Dodge’s that day with the frozen waterfall and all. We smiled as we drank our beer.

I guess one would either call this behavior of ours foolhardy or fanatical. But either way, I am doing it again next week when I head to Colorado with Eric and our other guys from our annual trip together. Dr.J sewed me back together and I am in the fast rehabilitation mode. The rehab folks made me a small spint which I will wear under a mitten fashioned so that I can hold a ski pole and all will be well in my mind. Jackie, Anita and Lisa,my rehab therapists, don’t quite agree and said I better be careful. They said it usually takes a little more time for the tendon to repair.They are very professional and care for their patients at the UPMC Lemieux Sports Center, but they have not come into contact with a nut job like me before.   Wait- what am I saying? They repair hockey players for crying out loud! Once again, I will be playing hurt but do you know what? I will be playing. I can’t thank Dr. Jamie enough and his UPMC staff for the great repair job. I have had a good season so far, injury free, but this little blip on the radar screen will make it interesting on my last turns of the season. Eric and I are used to playing hurt. He in particular with shoulder injuries, neck injuries, and a host of others in the last 6 years that had him playing – but playing hurt. This year he is skiing like he did 30 years ago, injury free and totally healed. He deserves this season for sure and I can’t kick. I have been very fortunate in the injury department. Enjoy the rest of your winter, spring is around the corner. Thanks for reading.

You Have To Be a Grinder

You know folks, you have to be a real grinder to be a skier in the mid-Atlantic region of our country. We had it rolling this winter with the cold that froze one of my pipes, and created great snow making weather. This coupled with the fronts steamrolling over the Great Lakes provided wonderful lake effect snow and then…………the bottom fell out. 78 degrees last Tuesday with torrential rains coming from, what the weather service calls, a once in a 100 year event. So we go into grind mode and ski in the rain, sleet and other borderline weather that results from low pressure coming up from the Gulf and a shift in the jet stream. But again, we are resilient here in the mid Atlantic/Ohio Valley/Laurel Highlands, and our enthusiasm never wanes.

Take Robert “Wags” Wagner for instance. He is shown above with his affable smile no matter what the weather is. A successful real estate broker, Wags has a real history of enthusiasm for the Laurel Highlands. http://www.laurelhighlandsliving.com wags@abeandwags.com A veteran Green Beret, a PSIA certified alpine and telemark instructor and ski patroller, Wags always looks at the bright side no matter what. He never says “die” and to his credit, he lit his sign again to hopefully bring more snow to the region. There is a lot of history to this sign which used to reside on the balcony of his girlfriend’s condo. Adrienne lived on the third floor and it was quite a task getting the sign up there. She is now Mrs. Wags. But in later years, it was reconstructed and it sits waiting to be lit every fall outside their home off of County Line Road. Now it is lit again hoping that we salvage some snow and ski weather in Western Pa. We need some help from above for some more winter weather which may return this weekend although now it is 66 degrees.

But again, you have to be a grinder here and be willing to ski in the rain, sleet and snow and faithfully get days in locally. I spend many a day driving to Laurel Mountain no matter what the weather. I even went to a snowmakers website http://www.chssnowmakers.com – Jason Sawin at jsawin@chssnowmakers.com , and purchased a pair of water proof snowmaking gloves to go with my Patagonia Pro Gore Tex bibs and parka. I am totally dry now that I have solved the issue of wet gloves. Like my friends, I will ski to the last flake especially here in Western Pa. Even if it is a soggy flake.

However, truth be told, you do have to subsidize your local days with out of town ski days, out west, or in New England. In the last two years, with the weather and all, I must confess that I have more ski days out of town than locally. My wife and I take trips with our friends and in a few weeks, I will finish off the season with the annual guys trip which this year is slated for Colorado. But like I tell people, you can’t always be out west unless you live there and we live in the mid-Atlantic so we make the best with trips and skiing the local scene no matter what.

But what is up with this weather, man? I have been hiking in this biblical rain., skiing, taking spin classes and trying to stay positive- like Wags. But it is tough when the meat of the winter is taken away by some gulf, moisture laden,sopping wet, low pressure system that seems to linger on and on. Good thing is the west is getting snow seeing that they had it a little thin early in the season. But hey, it could be worse. Just like I always say, ” Things always look darkest before they turn black.”……….. Just kidding!! Truly grateful for many things. Thanks for reading.

Breakfast at the Grange

“The Grange is a fraternal organization in the United States that encourages families to band together to promote the economic and political well being of the community and agriculture”

It is amazing how a little Vermont maple syrup can make even the most stoic farmer smile. I have this habit of taking my own Vermont maple syrup with me whenever I know I am going to have pancakes for breakfast. My wife and son just shake their head but not long ago, I used to take my son to the buckwheat pancake breakfasts at the Mt. Nebo Grange and always brought my maple syrup. This time of year when the sap starts running(not me running- the sap out of the maple trees), and the northeast starts the process of manufacturing syrup, I take advantage of the buckwheat pancake breakfasts that spring up locally on my way to the ski slopes. It is a rite of passage with spring skiing and in his formative years, I would take my son Jack to the Mt. Nebo Grange before we would head to the mountains. He didn’t quite know what to make of it but when we entered the building, the elder ladies and gentlemen of the Grange would seat us and serve the most delicious buckwheat pancakes. Interesting thing about buckwheat pancakes is that there is quite a bit of preparation which includes making the batches of batter ahead of time and allowing the yeast to do its thing. When you slather butter on them and pour the maple syrup and take your first delectable bite, there is a hint of a brewed substance almost like the taste of beer. Jack was not a fan but satisfied himself with the regular pancake offerings and bacon which brought a smile to his syrup smeared face.

It is curious that when you enter a place like the Grange, all of the members seem to know each other and even though the breakfasts are open to the public, there is this sense of belonging and if you are a stranger, you are given a seat with a wary eye. That all starts to melt when they see a young guy like Jack as they try to make him feel welcome even though we are not “Grangers”. The old farmers would check us out and when I brought out the Vermont syrup, their Log Cabin generic swill started to look pretty average at best. I would see the curiosity in their faces and offer to share my treasured gold with them. They willingly took up my offer and looked over at Jack and me and a crack of a smile came to their rather serious faces. The next thing you know, the table was swarming with curiosity seekers and my syrup suddenly vanished. I learned my lesson on subsequent visits by bringing more syrup and suddenly Jack and I became known as the “syrup guys” and like “Cheers” we all were greeted with a robust “hello” when we entered the building. It was only for a couple of weekends but somehow, Jack and I felt like we fit in to this fraternal organization of farmers or would be farmers which is slowly fading with urban sprawl.

I always made it my business to expose Jack to a lot of events and experiences when he was growing up. I explained the mission of the Grange and although we were not of an agricultural bent, he understood what the organization meant and why it was slowly losing membership as the farms were being sold to developers and the membership of the Mt. Nebo Grange was aging. But to share that experience of home made food, and seeing the culture of the farm life, was a good experience for father and son.

So, if you happen to be looking for some entertainment and good food during “cabin fever” time, look for buckwheat pancake breakfasts near you. They tend to pop up at this time of the year and if you need some syrup, contact http://www.maplesyrupvermont.com and tell Pauline I sent you. We have good syrup here in Pa. but I must admit that I am partial to Vermont Grade A Golden Color with Delicate Taste. That is what you want to order. Thanks for reading.

Miss Molly Could Turn ’em

My sister Molly and I had a great childhood learning to ski thanks to the initial encouragement of our parents and subsequently with the opportunity to stay at the Rich cabin on County Line Road every winter weekend. Bob and Sally Rose, Barley and Dixon Rich, and our parents,Carol and Dick, made it a priority that all of us kids would ski and enjoy the winter with the opportunity to stay in the mountains together-with spread out sleeping bags all over the living room.

Fast forward, my sister attended Carnegie Mellon University,majoring in Music Theater, and I would take her on her spring breaks to ski areas in the east and the west. When we would drive to New England, I forced her to ski in the most challenging conditions( rain, sleet, snow, ice,) and we would drive forever trying to find the best snow. She skied the bullet proof conditions at Killington, Sugarloaf and Stowe, and when she returned to school, she was exhausted after a week with her Type Quad A brother.

We would also go west to Snowbird, and Alta with my friend Mike Smith from Lake George and oftentimes she would stare down the Cirque with some apprehension and I would encourage her to go for it because she had the technique to ski it. After a harrowing trip for her on the High Traverse to the top of High Rustler at Alta, Molly started down and initiated a small slide. Her eyes were as wide as a pie plate and I said it is all fine, just ski it – and she did.

Molly and I would ski locally at an area near her home,when she relocated to Westfield, N.J, named Vernon Valley which is now Mountain Creek. At the time, their best run had a great deli at the bottom and there was nothing like skiing a steep run, dodging the yahoos from New York City, and eating a great corned beef on rye for lunch and doing it all over until the lifts closed.

Fast forward again, Molly got a great gig as the host of a nationally syndicated TV show out of WOR TV Channel 9 in New York. Romper Room and Friends with Miss Molly was seen by children all over the country on the super station and when she would return to Pittsburgh to visit, she had “Doobie Stickers” in hand which would end up on the back of everyone’s season passes at Seven Springs – our local ski area.

Molly was not only a celebrity from the TV show, but a local celeb who skied very well. We would race together in the Poconos on Pro Am teams during our cousin’s tenure with Coca Cola and as a strong woman skier, the guys from the Pro Skiing Circuit were all too happy to have her on their teams. We got some nice hard wear from those Pro Am races,which were Coca Cola sponsored, and the Belden brothers(Kurt and Kent) from Pico, Vermont, always wanted us to be on their team. More money for them and bigger bowling alley trophies for us.

Life moved on for Molly and she had 4 kids and the skiing days started to become far and few between. I tried to encourage her to grind through and keep her ski days in the winter, but it just became too time consuming with her work of raising a family.

Recently, things came a little full circle when my nephew Charlie, his new bride Trina, and my niece Mary all visited Laurel Mountain for a ski day with Uncle Pat. . As I watched Charlie and Mary, I saw glimpses of their mother in their turns and it was a joy to me that somehow my sister’s genes rubbed off on the slopes. Trina was a natural even though she was never on a pair of skis before in her life. Charlie remarked that he and Trina will make this a priority in their lives together and that made me smile.

Molly has a new hip now and the excuses for a return to the slopes with her Quad A brother are quickly fading. Maybe we will see some more Doobie Stickers re-surfacing as she perhaps makes a comeback? I am hoping so. Life can get in the way of things that you really like to do. But if you make it a priority and grind through the BS, you can enjoy the mountains, the slopes, or whatever your pleasure is. Carpe Deium folks. Life is short. Enjoy it. Maybe you will be seen in the Magic Mirror again? Thanks for reading.

It is Tough to Teach an Old Dog New Tricks

So,I am up here in the Adirondacks visiting my old friend Mike Smith who I have skied with for 45 years. I have posted about Mike before. Acrobatic pilot, skydiver, marina owner, and general gas pedal to the floor guy. That is him on the left in the picture above. The other guy is Mark Hutchinson, my friend from Vermont. Ex ski race coach at Stowe and PSIA Level III 40 year ski instructor. Hutch coached Eric Schlopy and Chip Knight who were US Ski Team members, World Cup racers, and Olympians. Hutch knows skiing and makes great turns.

Now going back to Mike on the left, he has been hampered as of late with some knee issues because of past sins on a motorcycle. So, I have been hammering him on the use of the new ski equipment which allows for easier turns and shorter lengths. Despite the knee issues, he refuses to ski on the modern skis and insists on skiing with a 20 year old pair of Heads. He ridicules us for using the new skis and vows that he never will even try them and hurls a bunch of expletives which I cannot recount here. Hutch on the other hand, is a proponent of modern ski equipment and will never even think about skiing on anything that is not state of the art. He has had two hip replacements and is skiing like he did 30 years ago. He is in good shape, skis really well, all day long.

Now Smith, because of his knee issue, will only ski half a day any more and if it is not perfectly groomed, he will not ski. He is trying to preserve his knee. So when a foot of new snow fell on Sunday night and we went to Gore, I pulled out the fat boards( 107 under foot) and enjoyed the windblown powder and the skis performed flawlessly in the cut up snow as well. Smith said no way with his old skis and went to the lodge. I told him how easy the new fat boards are but he had no interest. His curmudgeon attitude was coming out strong and he missed a perfectly good ski day

The Summit Chair at Whiteface was beckoning the next day, and as Hutch and I got ready to board, Mike said he would just ski the lower groomed trails and missed all the new fluff at the top of the mountain. Again, his old skis were limiting his fun but he refused to try the new skis that I sent up to him. He has a nice pair of Stockli GS skis in a 183 length sitting in his rack at his marina and refuses to try them. When Hutch and I rode him hard at The Cottage after skiing, over a nice Switchback Ale, he once again rattled off a bunch of lines about how he will never use skis like we use. Hutch and I had a great day at Whiteface, Mike once again packed it in at noon.

Now don’t get me wrong, I am not trying to paint a bad picture of my old friend, but he refuses to listen to advice about new equipment that would make his skiing so much more enjoyable and also easier on his knee. Mike has always been a good skier but if you don’t keep up with the times, you are limiting yourself and it only accelerates with age. Granted, Mike is a few years older that Hutch and me and has had a plethora of injuries due to his high risk hobbies. He says, ” McCloskey, I have 100,000 miles on my body and it is starting to show.” And I keep telling him that if he would only try the new skis that I sent to him, he would be so much happier. He said, ” when the Heads break, maybe I will try them.” That is the closest thing I have gotten up here to a capitulation. For a guy who has a successful business, survived 3 plane crashes, and has jumped close to 2500 times out of an airplane, he has lived all of his dreams for sure. We love the guy.

The tough part is that Hutch and I ski all day. We can do that because we take care of ourselves and we use equipment that helps our skiing. Mike admitted that he was sorry that he could not ski all day with us, but it is not for lack of skill, or even the knee, it is his refusal to come into the 21st century and it is costing him time on the hill with his buddies. He is an excellent skier. He could be so much better. He also needs to take care of that knee somehow with some surgery that would render it new again. But that is another discussion that did not go well.

Again, I was a smiling dog on top of Whiteface, and so was Hutch. But I missed my old friend when he threw in the towel and went in at lunchtime. So, what lies ahead? I think I have finally admitted to myself that I will not change Mike’s mind and it will only be him that makes any change. That seems to be a recurring theme with me anyhow and I need to let things go and let people make their own decisions. I can’t force my opinions and beliefs on anyone. I need to let people decide for themselves and if I have presented my case and they don’t follow the advice or the suggestion, I need to let it go. I am hoping that my buddy will get competitive again and get on the new boards and ski with his pals who so desperately want to ski with him. He is a crusty old tough guy, but I know he wants to be able to ski like he has always done in the past. So, if you see him up at the Pilot Knob Marina on Lake George, tell him to hang those old Heads up over his fireplace and get with the times. But don’t tell him I said so, because he will throw you in the lake. Thanks for reading and stay current in all that you do.

The Spinning Alternative

So this was a milestone winter for me in that I finally retired from running. 9 months of the year I ride a mountain bike but in the winter, when the trails get really nasty( not nasty for my fat bike friends) but nasty in my estimation, I always turned to running until the spring. My knee started to bother me on uphill runs and I decided to preserve it for future use. I have no issues with it skiing and riding and want to keep it that way so all my years of running are finally coming to a close. So aside from hiking, I needed an alternate form of exercise to keep in some semblance of shape and I returned to …………..the spin class at my local YMCA.

As I first entered the studio, I was welcomed by a wide array of folks getting set up on their bikes. The guy in front of me with his Tough Mudder Finisher T-Shirt warming up in a rage, the homemakers, the young girls in their yoga outfits, the tri-athlete with his headphones on oblivious to anyone in the room, and the instructor who began turning up unfamiliar music in the acoustically challenging loud room. Now I am an old rocker and used to loud music, but when the spin class music cranks up, I can’t hear a thing that the instructor says with her headset microphone planted firmly in her mouth. Maybe it is just me but all I hear is blah blah blah…………three, two, one………..and then whatever? So I just watch her and when she stands, I stand and when she sits, I sit, as I pedal to the beat of heavy metal or some other form of music. No Atlantic Records or Motown anywhere in sight. And that’s okay.

As the puddle of sweat forms under my bike, I look around the room at the various forms of fitness. Standing and jumping is foreign to a mountain biker and so many times, I just sit and pedal to the beat and sweat profusely. A good workout, no doubt, but not really aligning itself with cycling in particular. I remember a few years ago, when my wife and I started taking the class together, the instructor at the time came in and said if we were talking, we were not working hard enough. She was a hard body, had a look of disdain, and looked right at me and said,” and- I beat all the guys at everything that I do.” With that, I kept warming up wondering what these classes would entail with this intense woman of stone. Interestingly, after a few weeks, she heard me mention that I was riding in the MS-150 ( the charity ride for MS that goes from Pittsburgh to Lake Erie). This event was a two day event with a stop over at my Alma Mater – Allegheny College in Meadville, Pa. She told me she wanted to ride with my friends and I said that she was surely welcome. Obviously she wanted to prove a point and she showed up loaded for bear.

At the start of the ride, my friends wondered who this woman was with the time trial bike and disc wheel. She had a skin suit and a time trial tear dropped shaped helmet and menacing sunglasses and as we began the slow ride from the start, my friends wondered what she was doing with a group of older riders who were out for a good time and not a race. Interestingly enough, after the first hill, she was gone. And I don’t mean in front of us. I mean she was off the back after the first hill. Long story short, she was weeping, mascara running down her face, as I waited 45 minutes for her outside of Meadville and we rode the hill together up to the college. She could not believe that she, a “professional athlete”, could not ride with a bunch of old guys. I felt kind of sorry for her seeing that it meant so much to her, but I encouraged her to keep riding outside and it will all come together. I told her that there is a difference in riding a road bike or a mountain bike and spinning in a studio. The experience of anticipating shifting, how to ride in a group, drafting, etc. Not that there is anything wrong with spin class, it is just different outside. She was somewhat comforted and encouraged as I deposited her into the loving arms of her man waiting for her at the college.

So as I continue to spin a couple of times a week, the exercise is good but I have no expectations that when I get out on the road or mountain bike in the spring, I will be in good riding shape. The spring is tough no matter what you do to stay in shape. The only guys who seem to overcome the spring pain are the fat bikers(not fat cyclists, but those who ride fat bikes) and the road guys who ride all winter no matter what the weather does. That is not for me as I like to do other things in the winter. But I know that I will be challenged for a while when the new riding season starts. But in the mean time, I will continue to form the puddles of sweat and listen to the pounding rhythmical cadence of music, bikes, and spinning flywheels. I just wish I could understand what the instructor is saying? It is hell to get old. Thanks for reading.